The Courtship of Mace Windu
by Taraum
Summary: Mace Windu did not die. Instead, he was broken in body and downcast in spirit. Alema was once a Jedi but left to be with her family. On Coruscant during the Jedi Purges, she fights to save one last remnant of the Order before it is too late.
1. Falling

The wind rushed past his face, providing some small relief to the badly burned skin. Strangely, regardless of the almost sentient energy of Coruscant, the night air was quiet. The only thing Mace could hear was the slow beating of his heart as he fell into the endless starlight of the city world. How could this have happened? He had been so close, just inches, from ending this entire debacle. Finally, after three long years of ripping apart the galaxy, it would have been over. The Sith would have sunk back into the darkness of myth, where they belonged. The Order would have finally been safe, the darkness and confusion of the dark side eliminated. The war would have been over.

But for the boy. All these years, all this effort, and all…wasted. How could he have done this? How? Why? The edges of Mace's vision began to blur, and he knew the end was nearing. He had failed Yoda, the Order…himself. He knew that the impact would not come for some time, so he closed his eyes and counted his breaths as they came. It was strangely soothing, something so simple after all the intrigue and lies. He thought of Depa, of the trust they had formed over the long years of her training. He remembered Yoda, Obi-Wan, Qui-Gon, Kit, and Ki-Adi. He thought of the younglings he had taught, the infants in the crèche, the wizened Jocasta Nu in the library. He had failed them. He had failed them all. As the wind jostled his wounded body, Mace Windu pondered this fact. Surprisingly, the end came much sooner than he had expected. As darkness claimed his vision, Mace Windu found himself confused. Never before had duracrete felt so soft…

* * *

><p>Alema Passik looked out over the Coruscant skyline and sighed. She folded her legs underneath her, closed her eyes, and reached out in the Force. She needed to feel the throbbing surge of life that only Coruscant could provide. Considering the day's events, she felt it was not a selfish indulgence. After all, how often was one forced to bury a younger brother?<p>

Tears pricked her eyes at the thought. Tol had always lived up to his name, his spirit ever fierce, his temper always hot. And that fire had consumed him, literally today as well as in his relations with the Passik clan. After he had left Dantooine, Alema had been the only member of their immediate family to keep in touch with him. Alema had journeyed to Coruscant recently for a business opportunity and had had every intention of visiting her brother once she was relatively settled. Four days ago, she had received a frantic comm from Tol's current lover, indicating that her brother was unresponsive. Alema had rushed to their apartment, but it had been too late. Her brother's heart had stopped.

As they had been waiting for the mortuary workers, Alema had rifled through her brother's bag. Her heart had sunk when she found the large supply of death sticks, not to mention all the other illegal medicines under them. Alema had felt her lekkus begin twitching uncontrollably, and she had been seized by a dark urge to strangle the woman weeping in the corner of the room. He had sworn he was clean, that he would never again…Alema had turned and glared at the sobbing girl. Tol had always been a fool for women, especially women with underworld connections. Luckily, the mortuary workers had arrived at that moment, and Alema had been faced with different concerns.

The mortuary had been quick to determine the cause of death: overdose of several powerful stimulants. Her brother's heart had been unable to handle the strain. Her own heart racing, Alema had solemnly contacted their older sister, Dia, and relayed the news. Within two days, Dia and their parents had been by her side, weeping as Tol's body was consumed by flames. Tol would have loved the sheer irony of that fact. Only in death would he ever truly be united with his family, once it was too late. Alema sighed and shook her head, trying to rid herself of the unpleasant thoughts.

Instead, she focused on the flow of the Force. The eddies here on Coruscant reminded her of rapids, beautiful in their energy but also overwhelming in their power. If one were not careful, the eddies would plunge him under, never to be seen again. Much like Tol. Alema opened her eyes and felt tears flowing down her face. She heard the door behind her open and felt Dia's presence in the Force. Her sister was cold, numb, strong…stable. For now. Alema knew her well enough to know that once they returned to Dantooine, once their parents had grieved and were healing, Dia would allow herself to mourn. But not until then.

Dia knelt beside her sister and gently put an arm around her shoulders. "Cry," she instructed, stroking one of Alema's lekkus. Pressing her face into her sister's lap, Alema sobbed violently, one hand convulsively kneading into her sister's leg.

"He's gone, Dia. I failed him," Alema wailed, remembering her brother as he had been before the drugs. The little boy who had watched in awe as she practiced Shii-Cho and Ataru. He had grabbed a stick and began trying to imitate her movements. She remembered his green lekkus twitching in annoyance when her Master had interrupted their practice session. She remembered the joy in his eyes when she had decided to come home, to give in to what felt natural.

"Alema, you could not protect him from himself. Tol chose who he wanted to be. And we were forced to watch as it destroyed…" Dia murmured, her voice cracking at the end. Alema flinched as her sister's presence in the Force changed, suddenly becoming an overwhelming chasm filled with sorrow. Alema looked up as Dia's eyes filled with tears. Her sister's jaw clenched stubbornly, and she looked down. "We must be strong," she said, voice quavering. "For our parents. They will need our strength."

Alema lifted her sister's chin and smiled weakly. "We will be strong…together."

* * *

><p><em>The darkness was invading. All around her, innocents screamed. Some screamed out of fear; others screamed for mercy. Children ran from their pursuers. Those that tripped never rose again. Some ran to their Masters, others for the safety of their beds. Somewhere from the shadows, mocking laughter filled the Temple. A hideous, deformed ghost floated in the air, his words judging those who defended his power, condemning them to death. And beneath him, a dark flame raced in whatever direction he pointed, murdering the innocent. The sound of labored breathing, of screams and groans filled the air. Alema raced down the hall, trying to find some way to help, but it was too late. The dark flame engulfed her. The sound of her own screams and the smell of charred flesh filled her dreams; then everything went dark…<em>

Alema sat up, sweat pouring down her face and back. Surely it was just a dream. Yet why did it feel so real? Why was her stomach revolting and her head aching? Why was she filled with a sudden sense of emptiness as her heart pounded into her chest. Why could she still hear the screams? Why did she feel death so strongly? Alema rose quietly, careful not to awake Dia. Grabbing her nightrobe, she strode to the window overlooking Coruscant and froze. A cold chill filled her soul. It had been no dream…the Jedi Temple was burning.


	2. Carnage

_A/N: All right, I realize that the likelihood that Mace Windu actually survived would be little to none. But I've simply never been able to come to terms with the idea that he died after falling out a window. It just never fit. Also, I hated to see a man who devoted his life to the principles of the Republic die like that. I just felt that he deserved better. So I decided to write this little story. I'm not really sure how long it will be, and although I have a vague idea about where it will go, any suggestions would be appreciated._

* * *

><p>Alema fell to her knees, holding her head in her hands from the sheer power of all the deaths she was feeling. She hadn't been the strongest in her class, but she had been strong enough to make it as a Padawan. If not for her decision to leave the Order, she knew that she would have made it to Knight. If she had not left the Order, she would now be at the Temple. The temple which was now burning, the echoes of its children's screams ripping through the Force.<p>

What was happening? Why was the Jedi Temple being attacked? Why couldn't she _move_? She had to move…she had to help them! Alema struggled to her feet, blindly stumbling back to the bed and rummaging around in her bag. Hands shaking violently, she finally managed to find her blaster before placing it on the bed. After hastily pulling on her robe, she began feeling around for her shoes in the dark. The motion awakened Dia, who groggily turned on the light beside their bed and rubbed at her eyes. One of her lekku twitched slightly in annoyance. "What are you doing?" she asked thickly. "Where do you think you're going?"

"I have to help them!" Alema sobbed, pulling on her boots roughly. "I'm sorry, Dia, but I have to help them!"

"Who? What are you babbling? Alema, what's wrong?" Dia asked before grasping her sister's shoulders. Alema roughly jerked away before retrieving her blaster and standing. Dia, by this time truly concerned, rose and followed Alema out into the foyer. "Alema. Alema!" she cried, grabbing her sister by the arm. Alema rounded on Dia before making a simple motion with her hand. An unseen force slammed Dia into the wall, knocking the breath out of her.

"Dia…please…I'm sorry! So sorry!" she heard Alema sob before rushing out the door. Dia shakily got to her knees, still half asleep. Moaning, she rubbed her neck. Her back and shoulders ached from the impact, and she could barely take in a breath. As the sleep left her eyes, she slowly crawled to the couch, hoping for some leverage to stand. When she finally found it, she struggled to stand. But as she looked out the window, she almost lost her balance anew. The Jedi Temple was on fire. Dia shakily opened the door to the patio, lost in the horror of the scene. The warm Coruscant wind whipped past her, drowning out the sounds of the traffic. But somehow, although her ears were mute to the traffic, she could still hear the screams.

* * *

><p>Alema had hailed a transport, who refused to go near the Temple. He said the area was under lockdown and no transports were being allowed, save the GAR gunships. Alema had been tempted to use a Force suggestion but had though better of it. No need to draw unnecessary attention. Instead, she had told him she was a journalist and needed to be near the scene. He raised an eyebrow at her blaster but agreed to set her down about two miles from the Temple. It was the closest he would go.<p>

And now Alema stood at the entrance to the Jedi Temple, the bastion of freedom on Coruscant…her one-time home. How many times had she walked up those steps with her Master after a mission, only to be greeted warmly by her brothers and sisters? How many times had she watched the sun set behind the 'scrapers on Coruscant from those hallowed halls? How many times had she bounded down the steps with her Master, eager to begin a new mission? And now her she was again, facing down the barrel of a DC-15A blaster. The clone held the weapon almost as if it were an extension of his being, instead of an instrument of death. How many of her brothers and sister had already fallen to him, or to others like him? Alema glared at him, her lekkus twitching wildly, and knew that she was close to touching the dark side. The blood of the Jedi sang out to her, urging her to take revenge.

But how could she? She stood on the front lines of a small crowd, all of whom were in her same predicament. Some had been attracted by the noise, others by the sight, others by the Holonet. But all were unable to provide any aid, to stop this senseless slaughter. How dare they? Alema feet moved of their own accord, her hand going to the blaster at her side. The DC-15's barrel went from her face straight to her heart. "Ma'am, don't make me do this. Back down!" the trooper insisted, his helmet obscuring his eyes.

"You dare to harm the innocent?" Alema whispered, her voice deadly. What she wouldn't give to have her lightsaber…

"Ma'am, I'm just following orders. Now, back down," he commanded. "Please…" he added, his voice losing some of its edge. "I don't understand…I don't want to have to…please don't make me…not again." Alema reached out in the Force, probing his mind. What she found made her lift her hand back up as the tears leaked out of her eyes. He was being used; he knew it, but he didn't do anything about it. He couldn't…he just couldn't.

"How can you do this?" she whispered, voice trembling. "How? Why?"

"I don't…I don't know," the trooper sighed, his voice almost inaudible. "I'm sorry."

"As am I," Alema sobbed.

* * *

><p>Mace Windu slowly opened his eyes, although that simple action cost unspeakable energy. He immediately wished he hadn't. The night sky above him turned and twisted, churning his stomach. His head throbbed and ached; he could feel every slow beat of his heart as it pounded in his head. He tried to move his left hand, to provide some relief to the pain. But he simply didn't have the energy.<p>

Instead, he simply focused on breathing. But as the seconds passed, the nauseated feeling only increased. And although he was trying to calm his heartbeat, it kept speeding up. His legs felt the need to run, to fight; but he was unable. A pit was forming where his heart should have been, the darkness invading. He could hear screaming, could feel flames licking against his skin, could feel the bitterness of betrayal sing through his veins.

_Not even the younglings survived…they were in danger. He had to help! A bright flame danced before his vision before suddenly turning jet black. He tried to escape, tried to run; but what good was running when you couldn't even move? It was a night terror…it had to be. The flame rushed at him; Mace's vision succumbed to the invading darkness._

* * *

><p>Alema stumbled back into the room, her eyes bloodshot from crying. She had stayed until the morning, unable to tear herself away from the screams of her brothers and sisters. She vaguely remembered falling to the ground, her knees unable to support her weight any longer. It had been at that moment that part of the Temple had exploded, and she knew. She knew that a dozen Jedi had just joined the Force. The man beside her had crouched down and tried to console her, tears streaming down his face.<p>

As the night progressed, more Jedi died. At one point Alema recalled retching, the strain simply too much to bear. After that, she had begun dry-heaving, having nothing left to empty. And yet the death continued. But she would not leave…how could she? She had already abandoned them once before. Not again. Never again. And so she had stayed until the last tremor rang out in the Force. Then she had stood, looking up at the smoldering ruins that had once been her home. There was nothing left. They were gone.

As she had stared up at the Temple, survival instincts had suddenly taken over. She needed to leave. They would recognize her. So, taking one last longing look, she had turned and run. She had broken her promise and abandoned them, again.

Alema stumbled into the room and mechanically locked the door behind her. She jumped at the sight of Dia, whose normally tan skin was several shades paler. Her sister trembled violently, looking out the window. Almost as if possessed, Alema crossed over to the window and stared. Her home…she had abandoned them. What had she done? Yanking the curtain across the window, Alema struggled to maintain her balance. She felt Dia's presence behind her and visibly sagged.

"Alema…" her sister began but failed to finish. After all, what could anyone possibly say?

"Are our parents safe?" Alema asked hollowly.

"They are sleeping," Dia nodded. "They do not yet know of this."

"Good, let them rest. Let them all…rest," Alema whispered before her vision turned black. Darkness entombed her, and she began falling.


	3. Lies

_A/N: The speech in this chapter was taken directly from Wookieepedia: wiki/Declaration_of_a_New_Order. All rights belong to George Lucas. _

* * *

><p>Alema woke slowly, several different sounds coming in broken stages. The first thing she heard was whining alarms and shrill bells. She must have drifted back into unconsciousness, though, for those faded after a short time. The next thing she heard was Dia's voice, hard and low, as though she was trying not to wake her. Somewhere off to the right, her father's rich baritone rumbled in response. Another few moments of darkness came and went, and Alema felt her mother's hands stroking her lekku as the small, calloused fingertips worked magic. Alema tried to respond, to open her eyes at least, but she felt so very, very weak. Even breathing was difficult. She shouldn't feel like this…<p>

Swallowing thickly, she tried to speak, but all that came out was a soft whimper. The next thing she knew, a hand was grasping hers. Dia, no doubt. And another was lifting her head, placing a hard forehead against hers. Her father. She felt her mouth being opened, and a cool liquid washed down her throat. She tried to swallow, tried to breathe, tried to open her eyes, to do something. The result was a choking fit that wracked her body. She felt someone lifting her and a brief thumping against her back. After taking a few choking gasps of air, she finally managed to crack her eyes open. Her mother stood in front of her, blue eyes puffy from crying.

"Alema? Can you breathe?" she asked, running a finger along Alema's jawline. Alema nodded shakily, leaning back against her father's chest for support.

Dia knelt in front of her and placed a hand on her knee. "You gave us a scare."

"Wha- what happened?" Alema croaked.

"You passed out shortly after coming back. Mother and father walked in a few seconds after. The sirens woke them. Father put you on the couch," Dia explained, her voice soft.

"Sirens? Why would there be…?" she trailed off before remembering the carnage of the previous night. Alema's eyes snapped open, her strength suddenly returning. Careening off her father's lap, she stumbled for the window, almost reaching it before Dia grabbed her arm and pulled her back into an embrace. "Let go. I have to see – "

"No, Alema. It's too late," Dia protested, struggling with her sister. Eventually, Alema managed to wriggle away, pulling the hotel curtain back. Wincing at the sun, her eyes eventually adjusted. She wished they hadn't. She wished, suddenly, that she'd tried to shoot that clone. Then she wouldn't have to watch the smoke rise, watch the gleaming white Temple seem so incredibly small where once it had loomed. Sinking down to her knees, Alema let the curtain fall back to cover the window.

"I had hoped…I had hoped I would wake up and find that it all was just a nightmare," Alema sighed after a minute. Her mother and father glanced down, not knowing what to say. Dia closed her eyes, placing a hand to her forehead. The silence hung thick for several moments. "Does anyone know why?" Alema finally whispered.

Byt and Aola looked at each other for a moment before glancing at the Holonet receptor in front of the couch. Sensing this, Alema started to crawl towards it. Dia stepped in front of her before kneeling down. She took a deep breath before attempting to speak. The first try wasn't successful, and neither was the second. "They claim that the Jedi attempted to overthrow the Republic. Apparently, four Jedi attacked Chancellor Palpatine last night. His guards killed them. After that, several legions of clones attacked the Temple. The Temple, as well as the area surrounding it, has been put on military lockdown. No one is allowed in or out. According to the reports, there were no survivors of the Temple massacre," she whispered. "I'm so sorry, _numa_…"

"I don't understand. Why would the Jedi ever try to overthrow the Republic?" Alema asked. "It makes no sense."

"The building manager personally stopped by every room on this floor. He told us that Chancellor Palpatine has convened the Senate this afternoon. It will be broadcast tonight on every Holonet frequency. All citizens of Coruscant have been instructed to tune in," Byt replied.

A pressure suddenly gripped Alema's chest, as if all the air were being squeezed out of her lungs. The air around her felt charged, the confusion and despair of thousands of Jedi moving within the Force. _Lies_, it whispered. _All he speaks is lies_. Alema glanced at the Holonet receptor, the blackness of its screen mirroring the shadows that were beginning to rise in her own soul. When she tried to think of the Chancellor, all she could see was the dark flame from her dream. "Then, by all means, let us hear his explanation," she hissed.

* * *

><p>The sun had just begun to set when the Holonet receptor finally picked up any signal. Byt and Aola sat on the couch together, Byt folding his wife in his embrace. Alema's heart sank when she looked at her mother. After their earlier conversation, her mother had made the mistake of staring out the window for a few moments. Alema had felt her disbelief through the Force, as well as the considerable depression that followed. Her mother had run into the bathroom after that and refused to come out for an hour. Her sobbing could be heard from every corner of the hotel suite. Finally, Byt had been able to coax her out, and her daughters had rested with her on one of the beds. Alema had used a gentle Force suggestion to push her already exhausted mother over into sleep. She smiled at the memory of her mother's peaceful expression during her nap. She was sure Aola would not make that face for several months.<p>

Dia sat on the couch above her, with Alema's head propped against her knee. Dia silently ate a bagel as the smell of its honey spread filled Alema's nostrils. Tapping Dia's knee, she gave her a weak smile and nodded her head at the little pastry. Normally, this would have made her sister roll her eyes and continue eating. Today, however, Dia merely broke off a piece and handed it to her. Alema munched the food slowly, knowing that nothing else was coming until morning. The manager had assured them that he was trying to get a shipment in, but until the military lockdown ended, he was having to ration food for the entire hotel.

A siren broke the eerie silence, making Aola jump and press closer into her husband. Dia froze for a moment, taking the Holonet remote into a shaking hand. She placed the bagel down and sighed. "I don't want to know."

Alema placed a hand on her sister's knee. "Night must fall so that the sun may rise," she whispered.

Dia raised an eyebrow, her tone disdainful. "What kind of _poodoo_ is that?"

"My Master told me that once. I never realized until now just how right she was," Alema answered. Without another word, Dia switched on the receptor. The Chancellor stood before the Senate wearing a maroon cloak. Alema's stomach revolted unexpectedly. Her hand tightened on Dia's knee as he spoke:

"_Citizens of the civilized galaxy, on this day we mark a transition. For a thousand years, the Republic stood as the crowning achievement of civilized beings. But there were those who would set us against one another, and we took up arms to defend our way of life against the Separatists. In so doing, we never suspected that the greatest threat came from within._

_The Jedi, and some within our own Senate, had conspired to create the shadow of Separatism using __one of their own as the enemy's leader__. They had hoped to grind the Republic into ruin. But the hatred in their hearts could not be hidden forever. At last, there came a day when our enemies showed their true natures._

_The Jedi hoped to unleash their destructive power against the Republic by __assassinating__ the __head of government__ and usurping control of the __clone army__. But the aims of would-be tyrants were valiantly opposed by those without elitist, dangerous powers. Our loyal __clone troopers__ contained the __insurrection__ within the __Jedi Temple__ and __quelled uprisings__ on a thousand worlds._

_The remaining Jedi will be hunted down and defeated! Any collaborators will suffer the same fate. These have been trying times, but we have passed the test. The attempt on my life has left me scarred and deformed, but I assure you my resolve has never been stronger. The __war__ is over. The Separatists have been defeated, and the Jedi rebellion has been foiled. We stand on the threshold of a new beginning. In order to ensure our security and continuing stability, the Republic will be reorganized into the first Galactic Empire, for a safe and secure society, which I assure you will last for ten thousand years. An Empire that will continue to be ruled by __this august body__ and a sovereign ruler chosen for life. An Empire ruled by the majority, ruled by a __new constitution__!_

_By bringing the entire galaxy under one law, one language, and the enlightened guidance of one individual, the corruption that plagued the Republic in its later years will never take root. __Regional governors__ will eliminate the bureaucracy that allowed the Separatist movement to grow unchecked. A strong and growing military will ensure the rule of law._

_Under the Empire's New Order, our most cherished beliefs will be safeguarded. We will defend our ideals by force of arms. We will give no ground to our enemies and will stand together against attacks from within or without. Let the enemies of the Empire take heed: those who challenge Imperial resolve will be crushed._

_We have taken on a task that will be difficult, but the people of the Empire are ready for the challenge. Because of our efforts, the galaxy has traded war for peace and anarchy for stability. Billions of beings now look forward to a secure future. The Empire will grow as more __planets__ feel the call, from the Rim to the wilds of unknown space._

_Imperial citizens must do their part. Join __our grand star fleet_! _ Become the eyes of the Empire by reporting suspected insurrectionists. Travel to the corners of the galaxy to spread the principles of the New Order to barbarians. Build monuments and technical wonders that will speak of our glory for generations to come._

_The clone troopers, now proudly wearing the name of Imperial __stormtroopers__, have tackled the dangerous work of fighting our enemies on the front lines. Many have died in their devotion to the Empire. Imperial citizens would do well to remember their example._

_The New Order of peace has triumphed over the shadowy secrecy of shameful magicians. The direction of our course is clear. I will lead the Empire to glories beyond imagining._

_We have been tested, but we have emerged stronger. We move forward as one people: the Imperial citizens of the first Galactic Empire. We will prevail. Ten thousand years of peace begins today."_

Several silent moments passed after the speech was over. Alema's head felt numb, her skull hollow, and her body nonexistent. As she watched the screen, now showing fresh video of the still-burning Temple, she could not fight the horror that slowly descended. How could this have possibly happened? When she had come to Coruscant a month ago, the world had made sense. The Chancellor was the Republic's figurehead; the Senate made the true decisions; and the Jedi Order was there to ensure peace throughout the galaxy. As of last night, the Jedi were no more. The Chancellor was now an emperor, and the Senate members were merely his puppets. She knew it as surely as she breathed air. _A hideous, deformed ghost floated in the air, his words judging those who defended his power, condemning them to death. _Alema swallowed thickly as Dia switched the frequency. It didn't help. Every one showed the same loop.

Sighing, Alema sank inside herself, opening her mind to the call of the Force. Normally she loved Coruscant, its energies beautiful and varied beyond measure. Now, however, everything was twilight and darkness. Alema felt her family's emotions first, overwhelmingly so almost. Her father's disbelieving shock, her mother's defeated sadness, and her sister's numb anxiety were only the beginning, though. The deeper she sank into the Force, the darker the energies became. She felt the confusion of billions, merged together with shock and anxiety. Anger, with fear mixed in, flooded her mind's eye with a deep crimson, almost like the blood of Coruscant's soul. She felt the call of the dark side the deeper into meditation she slid. Anger and fear created so much incredible power. As the fine barley wine of Dantooine would coat her tongue, that outrageous power coated her mind. It was intoxicating… all she had to do was reach out and take it. Negative power though it was, it was still power. And wasn't that what she needed to protect her family? Her brother was gone; she had already failed him. She couldn't lose another loved one, couldn't fail them again. Power would protect them, would serve her well…

_Power is an illusion, a distraction. Service is the call of the Jedi. We serve; we do not rule. _ The crimson vision began to bleed away as Alema remembered her Master's teaching. She was there to serve, to protect. Not to rule, and not to be served. Alema flinched as Dia touched her shoulder.

"Alema," she asked, squeezing tighter, "what is it?"

"Lies," Alema gasped, rejoining her family rapidly from her meditation. Her head spun. "It is all lies."


End file.
